


Love Thy Neighbor (or at Least Give Him a Chance)

by MickyRC



Series: Ineffable Husbands AU Week Meet Cutes [2]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alternate Universe - Babysitters, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Aziraphale is Good With Kids (Good Omens), Aziraphale is Warlock's Godfather, Babysitter Crowley, Child Warlock Dowling, Crowley is Bad at Feelings (Good Omens), Crowley is Good With Kids (Good Omens), Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Ineffable Husbands AU Week, M/M, Meet-Cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-09-21
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:02:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26587069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MickyRC/pseuds/MickyRC
Summary: “Village is down the road to the right, mate, probably drove right through it and didn’t even notice…” Crowley trailed off, staring. There was a man standing on his doorstep, and he was possibly the most bedraggled, incongruous, and gorgeous man he’d ever seen.Crowley's got a new neighbor in need of a favor--and if babysitting Aziraphale's godson is what it takes for Crowley to get his number, then heck, that’s just what he’ll do.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Ineffable Husbands AU Week Meet Cutes [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1932385
Comments: 16
Kudos: 183





	Love Thy Neighbor (or at Least Give Him a Chance)

**Author's Note:**

> Meet cute #2 for the Ineffable Husbands AU Week: neighbors!

Crowley was watching nothing on the TV when his doorbell rang. He blinked and squinted towards the window. It was still absolutely pissing down rain. Even though it was barely half six, it was dark enough to be the middle of the night. Whoever was out ringing doorbells in this weather was either extremely lost or extremely young and troublesome. But if it was one of the village kids, Crowley reasoned, they wouldn’t ring twice if he didn’t answer. He could continue his mindless evening and  _ not _ get pulled into something ridiculous and probably detrimental to his reputation as a man who did not walk around the village covered in mud. Crowley stared at the front door, willing it to reveal its secrets without him having to get up. The door acquiesced. The doorbell rang twice in quick succession this time, and Crowley finally groaned and flopped off the sofa.

“Village is down the road to the right, mate, probably drove right through it and didn’t even notice…” Crowley trailed off, staring. There was a man standing on his doorstep, and he was possibly the most bedraggled, incongruous, and gorgeous man he’d ever seen. His pale hair was plastered to his face, looking weirdly Roman-soldier-esque the way it curled on his skin, and somehow his soft grey eyes only added to the image. His face was soft, though, nothing chiseled or severe about it. It was the sort of face that could really carry a smile, and make anyone else want to smile, too. The man didn’t have an umbrella, or a raincoat, or even a normal coat to keep the wet from seeping through to his clothes, and his blue shirt was soaked through. Crowley noticed that the buttons weren’t all lined up right.

“I’m so sorry to bother you,” the man was saying, twisting a ring around his pinky finger. “I’m having a minor crisis, I promise I wouldn’t be here without warning if it weren’t an emergency, but Dierdre Young said you sometimes watch her son Adam for her? And the other kids?”

_ Fucksake, _ Crowley thought.  _ Those eyes should not be able to get bigger. _ “Er, yeah. I’ve watched them a few times.” A  _ few _ times was an understatement. He’d been babysitting The Them since they were crawling.

“I hate to ask this,” the man said, and Crowley was a little bit shocked to find he sounded sincere. “I know it’s horribly last minute, and if you have other plans or—or if you just don’t want to, whatever it is it’s fine, really, but… my godson is with me for a few weeks, and something’s come up for work and I  _ really _ can’t afford not to go, and that’s terrible of me I know it but I’ve just moved and I’m not quite on my feet yet and I’m already going to have to drive in this damn rain and…” The man yanked on the hem of his shirt. He looked close to tears. Crowley could see it even through the pounding rain.

Crowley didn’t babysit kids he didn’t know. Too many variables, too many parents who ignored issues and then left him to figure out what to do when their kid started having an allergic reaction or a totally preventable meltdown on his watch. Normally, he’d have pointed the man toward Ms. Tracy, the village’s collective odd grandmother and the other usual babysitter.

But the man in front of him was standing out in the rain asking him a little desperately for help, and somewhere in Crowley’s decidedly cold black heart something gave in.

“How long do you think you’ll be gone?”

“Oh—oh! I’ll be back by tonight. I hope before his bedtime, there shouldn’t be traffic this time of night but the rain might slow me down… but I should be here to pick him up before ten, I promise I’ll do my absolute best for that.”

Something else in Crowley’s heart wiggled and squirmed. “How old is he?”

“Five. He’s the same age as Deirdre’s boy, I’ve been hoping to set them up for a playdate but there just hasn’t been  _ time… _ ”

“Give me two minutes,” Crowley said suddenly, and closed the door in the man’s face. That was probably rude, he mused, but there were more pressing issues. Namely that his heartbeat seemed to have decided it wanted to try its hand at percussion music, and Crowley’s ears were going to be the drums. He stood with his back against the door and stared in the direction of a wall while he tried to get his mutinous heart to understand that he  _ should not _ be having palpitations over a man he’d just met, regardless of how pretty his eyes were.

_ He’s also very considerate and seems to care about this kid a lot, _ his heart rebutted.  _ All that  _ on top of _ the eyes. And he looks incredibly soft and huggable, did you notice that? _

Crowley had noticed that, thank you very much, and had deliberately decided to  _ not go there. _ He didn’t need any additional sources of embarrassment.

When exactly two minutes were up, Crowley sucked in a steadying breath and swung the door open again. The man was still standing there, looking half worried and half bemused.

“I can keep an eye on the kid till ten,” Crowley said. The man gasped and pressed a hand to his mouth in relief. Crowley’s heart did an uncomfortable flopping thing. “Does he have any allergies?” he continued, telling himself there wasn’t a squeak in his voice.

“No, nothing.”

“Anything medical at all? Anything I might need to know in an emergency?”

“No, no he’s perfectly healthy.”

“And his bedtime is?”

The man’s face went red. “Well, it really should be half eight. But I’ll admit I usually let him stay up till half nine or ten when he’s with me.”

Crowley shrugged. “No problem with me. He’s your kid. Or, well…”

“Close enough, really. I really can’t thank you enough for this. I promise I’ll pay you as soon as I can, I’m not asking for a favor here—”

“Nope, nope,” Crowley interrupted, shaking his head. “I don’t do pay. I’m alright as is, save it and buy the kid an ice cream next time you’re out.”

The man stared at him. His eyes had gone very big again. “Oh.”

Crowley’s face heated, and he felt a sudden urge to pull his  _ own _ shirt hem. “Just, er, just call me if you’re gonna be late, yeah?”

“Of course! Of course, absolutely, I’ll call as soon as I’m on my way home. Here.” He clumsily passed Crowley his phone, trying to keep it out of the rain. They exchanged contact info, and Crowley tried to tell his idiot of a heart that he wasn’t being  _ given his number, _ just an emergency contact. His heart, as ever, ignored him.

Crowley snuck a look at his phone while the man ran back to his car to collect his godson. ‘Aziraphale Fell’ the contact page read. “Aziraphale,” he murmured, trying it out. It fit, he decided. An odd, nice sounding name for an odd, nice man.

Fucksake,  _ this _ was gonna be a thing now.

Aziraphale returned a moment later, leading a little boy in a bright yellow raincoat by the hand. Crowley noticed with amusement that the kid’s hood was made to look like a duck, with eyes stitched on and a little bill sticking out. His boots were orange duck feet. Cute. The kid looked up at Crowley curiously. Crowley gave him a wide, silly grin, and the boy giggled.

When they got inside, Aziraphale immediately crouched down to speak to his godson.  _ Ding! Another point for him! _ Crowley’s brain yelled. Crowley decidedly ignored it.

“You’ll be good for Mr. Crowley, won’t you, Warlock?” Aziraphale was saying. The little boy nodded solemnly. “Thank you, dear.” He kissed Warlock on the forehead, then stood up again. “I’ll be back as soon as I can, I promise. I really can’t thank you enough—”

“Don’t worry about it,” Crowley waved him away. “Really. If I didn’t want to I’d say no.”

Aziraphale gave him a hesitant smile. “You’ll call me if anything—?”

“Long as you call if anything goes wrong your end.”

“I will. I promise, I will.” Aziraphale crouched down to give Warlock another hug. “I love you, sweetheart.”

“Mhm,” Warlock said. Crowley choked down a laugh.

Aziraphale tried to thank him twice more on his way out the door, and Crowley shooed him away both times. Normally he would have found that kind of dawdling irritating beyond belief, but from Aziraphale it was just… it was sweet, he admitted to himself. He thought Aziraphale was sweet. As he stood by the front window with Warlock and waved at Aziraphale’s departing car, he gave himself a moment to sit in the excitement of meeting someone new. Someone who lived close, no less, and would likely come to Crowley to babysit in the future, too. Maybe Crowley could show him around the village, help him get settled. He could unpack boxes or paint bedrooms, if Aziraphale hadn’t quite finished moving in yet. Or he could introduce Warlock to the other kids, and Aziraphale to the other parents—godparents, guardians, all the same to the kids—and maybe… maybe somewhere in there they could go out for dinner. Get to know each other. Just maybe, this might be someone he could build something with.

Then Aziraphale’s tail lights faded into the pounding rain, and Crowley snapped himself out of it.

“Right!” he cried. “So, Warlock. Have you had your dinner yet?”

Warlock nodded. He seemed like a quiet kid. Would probably be a great balance to the rambunctiousness of The Them.

Crowley grinned at him. “Well, if you’ve already had your dinner, then there’s only one thing left to do.” Warlock stared up at him, wide eyed. Crowley leaned down to whisper conspiratorially. “I’ve got ice cream in the freezer. What do you say to early dessert?”

Warlock said yes, very enthusiastically, and they spent the next few hours eating ice cream and watching movies. Crowley had figured he’d have to pull out some games later, or find a book to read him, but by the time movies were getting old Warlock was falling asleep on the sofa. It was an easy night. Warlock was an easy kid. Crowley was already looking forward to babysitting him again.

At 9:57 on the dot, Aziraphale rang the doorbell. Warlock didn’t stir, so Crowley picked him up and brought him to the door. Aziraphale was just as thankful as he had been earlier, and Crowley brushed him off just the same. Aziraphale roused Warlock enough to get him into his raincoat and boots, then let the little boy fall back asleep on his shoulder.

“I… I hope I’ll see you again?” Aziraphale asked softly as he headed out the door. The rain had finally slowed to a drizzle.

“Yeah,” Crowley answered, trying to hide the fact that his heart was trying to pound its way out of his chest. “And, uh. Doesn’t just have to be with the kid, if—I mean—I mean he’s a great kid, loved having him, was great, but, uh…”

He stammered to a stop, because Aziraphale was smiling at him. “I think I’d like that,” he said.

“Oh. Er… good. Me too.”

“I’ll see you soon, then.” Aziraphale shifted Warlock in his arms and turned towards his car. “Goodnight, Anthony.”

“Ngk,” Crowley said. “G’night. Night, Warlock.” He was immensely grateful for the nighttime shadows covering his blush.

Crowley stayed in the doorway as Aziraphale drove away. Then he fell back onto his sofa and scrubbed his hands over his face. Leave it to him to fall head over heels for a soft man with a kind voice and a sweet kid on the first meeting. This was going to be excruciating.

Well. At least he knew he’d be seeing Aziraphale again. And he had his number. Wriggling around to get access to his pocket, Crowley pulled out his phone.

_ hey _ he texted.  _ was really nice to meet you. think we could get coffee sometime? _

As soon as the messages were sent he flung his phone onto the farthest chair in the room and pressed his hands over his eyes, pushing the anxiety back with a force. But it was only a minute before the mobile buzzed, and he was lunging across the room to get it back.

_ I’d like that :) _ he read. Crowley felt an uncontrollable grin spread across his face. He was just about to whoop and go finish off the ice cream in celebration when the phone buzzed again.

_ You’ll have to wait for me to find another babysitter, though _

Crowley laughed, his grin never fading.  _ np, one sec _ he texted back, then swapped over to another conversation.

Only a moment later—Ms. Tracy was going to be absolutely insufferable about all this—Aziraphale messaged him again.

_ Okaaaaay, never mind the waiting then. How does this weekend sound? _

It was Thursday. Crowley practically bounced on his feet at the thought of seeing Aziraphale again so soon.  _ sounds perfect _ he replied. Aziraphale sent him another smiley face emoji, and Crowley really did whoop then. He had a date. He had a  _ date, _ with a guy he really liked, and who seemed to really like him. And who was really good with his kid, to boot.

Crowley got ready for bed in a happy daze that night. And when he slept, he dreamed of pale blond hair and a rain-dark blue shirt, and of a sleepy little duckling in a raincoat.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm also yelling on tumblr [over here!](https://one-with-the-floor.tumblr.com/)


End file.
